clickmom

raise your glasses folks

I am cranky. Carnky cranky cranky. Today is Peanut's birthday and despite everything being ok with Mom and her, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed=cranky again. Peanut had arranged for our babes to spend the morning in the spa and then all have lunch together. I signed up for a deep tissue massage. I didn't think it was deep enough, but 12 hours later, I am feeling like I will not be sleeping in my back tonight. ouch Delayed reaction. I was cranky going in to the massage and tried to uncrank myself, but the masseuse talked to me the whole time. She even played the "I can up that" game when I told her we had food allergies in my house. Yes, it seems that masseuse survives on water, she is allergic to everything. Yahoo, just what a cranky girl needs, a competitve masseuse. woo hoo. She did give me one helpful bit of information. I told her of my wheat abstinence and that I missed beer. I have always suspected that not all beers were made with wheat, but they don't have ingredients on the labels and I never bothered to find out which ones were wheat free. SHE KNEW!! And now I know!! Guess what I am drinking tomorrow night? Yippee!!!

So despite the fact that she talked my ear off, and tried to out do me in the allergy arena, I tipped generously cause I'm gonna have me beer!!

still detoxing

Yesterday when I woke up at 5 to get ready for my flight I had a killer headache and my period! What a bad way to start any day let alone the day I was hopping on a plane hoping my Mom would be alive when I got off. I gobbled up a couple of pain killers and prayed they would kick in by the time I got to the airport. They got about 90% of it, enough so that I could function.

Once on the plane it occurred to me that the headache was not my standard stress type head ache and I realized it was a detox headache, which I welcomed since it meant that my latest detox off of sugar was indeed working. Debbie wants to know about the detox, so here it is. You might think I am a bit food paranoid after reading it, and truthfuly I am. If it were remotely possible I woulkd take my family somewhere and live off the land. Except I would have no idea what I was doing so we would end up starving, but hey, what a boost for my diet! Anyway, here is my food hang up.

In the fall of '99 I read an article on food addiction and decided that this might be my problem. The theory is that any highly refined foods can be addictive especially wheat and other flours and sugars, all of them. So, I joined a 12 step program for this special diet and changed the way I ate. I lost a ton of weight and all these abdominal pains I had thought were normal disappeared as well a bm frequency problem I had been struggling with. When I got pregnant with Josh I went off the diet and the problems returned. I later got tested for Celiac Sprue since I also realized that oats upset my stomache too, and was told that while they found nothing definitive, it seemed like I might just be in the very early stages. Therefore I do not eat wheat (or oats). Now, the sugar, I don't have an intolerance too, I just turn into a fiend when I eat it. I start craving and overeating and gaining and gaining and gaining. SO, I can not eat sugar, otherwise my whole day is consumed with thinking about when I can eat more sugary food.

When I stop I have to detox just like a person would detox when they give up cigarettes or alcohol or any other addictive substance. And that is the story.

another year older and surgery in 4 days

Yesterday was my birthday. It was the first non totally glorious weather day here in S Florida. We got a couple of hours worth of swim time in right after breakfast and then we went to lunch "at the club" (Yes, the folks live on a golf course) and the movies. We saw 8 Below. Despite my inability to bond with the devil dog, I am a total dog person, and each time my eyes welled up and I fought back the tears, Evan would lean forward in his seat and grin mockingly at me. By the third time he seemed to instinctively know when I was on the brink, I realized he must have been doing the same thing too, so I called his bluff and let him know that I knew that he knew I was about to lose it because he was fighting back the tears himself. A man who cries at movies! I am raising a sensitive guy!

We went out to dinner, where Josh insisted on ordering the crispy duck because Evan ordered it. Now, Evan and Matt ate crispy duck all through our trip to Paris two summers ago, but I don't think Josh even remembers Paris. My Dad insisted we let the kid have what he wanted. Josh ate a good amount of duck, but reprimanded me the whole time for not making him order Pizza off the kids menu. These days there is always one kid that I can't win with. It's getting old.

When we get home tonight I will have one of the kids take a photo of me. A photo the shows me below the shoulders, they barely exist since I can't take one with my own fully extended arm. It is almost a year since I have been dieting and I figure a before and after photo is in order.

What I haven't been sharing is that I fell off the wagon here, indulging in some sugary sweets. It all started with a giant bowl of dried fruit Mom had out on the coffee table. Me and Evan dived in like we had not eaten in a week. The good news is that I didn't suffer from my usual travelling constipation! The bad news is that I feel the desire/compulsion sneaking back, I am thinking about what I can eat every minute. I opened my eyes this morning and thought about the wheat free meranges my has in the drawer before I even glanced at the clock. This is why I have no decorative food around my house. I can't resist the temptation. It all went down hill from there, with me sneaking a bite of this and a little of that. Now I have to detox again when I get home. I can't believe it, I weakened right before I went a whole year!! I have to decide if I am even going to weigh myself when I gfet home. Then the bad thing is that I am getting back on a plane Wednesday to come back for Mom's surgery. It is hard to have a clean diet when I have to eat out 3 meals a day.

So, the challenge is on. The second I walk out of the door to go home I am me again. And "me" is sugar free. I can't go back to eating, thinking and weighing what I weighed. It isn't who I am anymore. Now I am a much less fat triathlete on my way to being a totally thin triathlete. I have a goal and dammit I will not let a cookie get in my way. This is a life or death situation for me because I can not be who I want to be and eat sugar. Tune in tomorrow for more detox drama. inhale deep, I can do this, I can do this.

the bitch is back

You know, it is funny, because yesterday I discussed addiction with the cashier at WF, who reluctantly admitted to me that he smokes. I asked him if he was into health related stuff, working there and all. What I said to him was that in my experience with addiction, addiction will subside just long enough for you to let down your guard and then as soon as you relax it will go for another below the belt attempt at reestablishing itself. You can't let your guard down too soon.

Last night I dreamed that I ate an apple. It was perfection. It was cool, the coolness spreading over me slipping into my finger tips and down through my veins and refreshing me like nothing I have ever experienced. It was crispy, and felt so good in my mouth, sweet with the just the right amount of tart. The sensation of this apple made me feel like I was floating. Juices were sliding down my throat and dripping off my chin. My hands were wet with them. I savored every bite, feeling it's cool rush and eagerly taking more. Once I had finished I wondered if it were possible to get more. I began to panic because I needed more. Then I woke up and felt like crap because I thought I had eaten an apple, as if eating an apple were the worst thing I could do! For an instant I felt like a total failure and had the thought of just giving up, I was overwhelmed with the difficulty of these restrictions. Then I realized that I was in bed, and that there was no juice on my fingers, and no cool apple freshness in my chest, and that I had not wavered from my diet. I came out of the haze enough to realize that I had dreamed the whole eating thing.

That my friends is what my addiction does to me. Every time I start to think I have a handle on it I have a dream that makes me feel like I should just throw in the towel. Until I wake up. Then I know what I have to do, try harder.

Despite my desperate sounding last and present post clickmom is not going to throw in the towel. Oh no, dear readers, clickmom is going to win this battle. I have logged too many miles on my feet, bike, in the water, and on my new victim-the arc trainer- I have passed up too many sweets to even think of stopping now. This is one project that will be seen through until the end- my end- because it is ME time over here, and in the midst of taking care of everyone else I am now (finally) taking care of me too.

I was cranky again today. I held it together despite going to the boat show in NYC to look at boats to replace the bad bad boat that broke my baby sister's arm. We were there for 3 hours and I was as pleasant and as wonderful as could be.

Then we came home and the kids asked if we could have Chanukah. Something in me snapped. I am hating Chanukah right now. It's too long! The bitch came back. Maybe I am just tired after the apple feast last night, maybe I skipped lunch, maybe I am PMS, maybe all of the above. I gritted my teeth through the candle lighting and the gift hunt, and then was unprepared for Evan's less than luke warm reaction to his gift. It was naturally something I came up with on my own, some PS2 game that involves dancing and a dance mat. I thought it sounded like fun. Fun and moving that would be good for them. He thought otherwise. I told him to tell me if he wanted to return it- we could let him pick something out. He pretended to be OK with it. Fifteen minutes pass and I call the family for dinner. Matt is moping because after playing his gift, a video game for 12 seconds he has decided that despite the fact that he asked for it by name, it isn't his cup of tea. He wants to know if he can return it. I say he cannot return it if it is opened. He whines and starts talking about selling it on ebay. I hate that they want to sell things on ebay. I don't sell things on ebay or know any thing about selling things on ebay. I want him to shut the f--k up and play the overpriced game that he asked for by name and got. He keeps saying ebay-blah blah ebay and I am ready to strangle him when Evan decides to tell me that despite the fact that he too took his game out of the packaging he wants to return it.

I loose it and let lose my tongue, which amounts to the two kids sobbing into their rice pilaf (that I can't eat!) afraid to move and unable to speak. Like I said the bitch is back. When the husband tries to point out the over the top method I have enlisted he receives his own private tongue lashing. It went something like how I am entitled to loose it since I go around holding it in all day. Since I am the model of patience and purity I am allowed to unleash the bitch when the situation is this incredible. I told you she was back.

In the end I had to apologize and beg forgiveness and let Evan say "bitch" 4 times and hug and kiss and apologize some more. Evan was easy, he liked saying "bitch", but Matt made me grovel extra hard. He came around too. Josh got so jealous of all the hugging and kissing and begging for forgiveness he said that maybe he didn't like his gift either. Now I am forgiven and trying hard to choke down the bitch. Man, I could kill tonight.

But I am totally not going off this program. So, yeast beware, I am tough.

day 4 of the yeast feeding food deprivation diet

So, I saw the doctor and decided to just get real do the damn diet on Wednesday. I had already blown it with breakfast, so my day to begin the worst diet in the world would be Thursday. Thursday I felt fine, it was a busy day and I ran happily from one event to the other, not noticing any side effects of the diet. I think this Dad may have been on the diet however,

because he slept through the third grade concert. The kids were absolutely going for cute and adorable and not soothing, so beside the fact that all 150 or so parents and other assorted guests had to sit through 25 minutes of chimes and third grade chorus before seeing their own kids, I can't fathom any other reason why this Dad would have passed out, other than he too is on a "don't feed the yeast" diet. I should find him and talk.

Evan performed as expected. Being a child of my loins he did not sing, look at the teacher, or perform the choreographed hand movements. Had he done any of these things I most certainly would have screamed loud enough to wake the sleeping Dad. Evan did however throw in his own personal touch-the look of total boredom. Evan has perfected the eyes half closed "this sucks" look, and he was really at his finest during the bulk of the performance. He had complained about the concert for several weeks leading up to it, and I told him he didn't have to participate, but he got all excited about wearing his blazer and nice pants so he said he wanted to go. This is Evan in his suit, notice the other kids all have their mouths open because they are singing. Also, their eyes are open because they haven't mastered "the look" like my little angel boy.

But, at least Evan looked all handsome in his suit. Oh yeah, the principal stopped me on my way out of the gym-atorium and told me that when he saw Evan in the hallway earlier in the day he complimented Evan on his sharp look. Evan then looked the principal up and down and replied "You too." Good Job, Evan.

That was Thursday. On Friday I still felt OK. Well, I thought I was feeling OK, but the warning signs were there. When I woke up Friday morning I had two thoughts in my head, the first was "Wonder what the weather is today?" and the second thought was "Why is there a band of fire around my ring finger?" It seems that this tiny irritation that I have been battling under my 10 year anniversary band that hasn't come off since our 11th anniversary (#15 is rapidly approaching) worsened over night. I woke up with a raw red rash and a very swollen finger. First I went to see my new pal, arc trainer, cause a girl has to do what a girl has to do, and then picked Matt up early from school and headed to the jewelry store.

I entered the jewelry store and calmly told the lady behind the counter that I needed my ring cut off. She said they didn't do that any more and had not done it for years. I asked why not, she said because of insurance reasons. I offered to sign a release. She said she was sorry. I had to suppress my rage while I asked through my clenched teeth where she suggested I go to have the ring removed. She said the hospital. I leaned over the counter and in what might have been considered by some a hostile tone of voice began to say "Look lady, you don't understand, if this ring doesn't come off my finger in the next 20 minutes..." When I was interruppted by the owner of the store, who recognized me as the wife of Mr. IG, as in incredibly generous, who also likes to buy ridiculously priced glittering gifts for his wife. The very smart owner of the store, wisked me to the back where he produced the device necessary to grind through the band of my ring, freeing my poor finger and avoiding the scene that I was prepared to make.

Later in the day I swung by my office to say "Hi." to the fine staff members that are stuck in that cave of an office all day. As luck would have it, one of the freelance writers had also stopped by with her brand new smoochie love baby, who was happily asleep in his infant car seat. When he woke up I got to hold him until he began to fuss, and then it was clear that he was hungry. When the almost crying baby's mother did not attend to his needs fast enough, I said "If you don't sit down and nurse this baby I'm going to lactate and do it." It registered that I may have been over the top when the other women present gave me the "Are you PMS?" look.

Yesterday, I started the day off all right, but then it hit me like a brick wall. NOT ALL RIGHT ANY MORE. First I noticed a weakened feeling, as if I was coming down with something. Then I noticed that all my senses were on high alert. In particular was my sense of smell and hearing. This made the smell of anything unbearable and the sound of anything maddening. This included the voices of household members. And my alternate personality returned to fill in for a while, her name is Bitch. Bitch, doesn't like children, men or dogs, so it is not easy living with her. I haven't seen bitch for a long while, probably since I detoxed off of sugar, and that makes sense, since this yeast free diet is a detox too. Well, once Bitch returns, the only thing to do is wait it out. She never stays for too long.

I informed the kids of my personality status and being the well trained and fearful little angels that they are they cowered in the playroom for hours until they got hungry and had to come up stairs to beg for food. The Husband on the other hand is not as well trained and he had the chutspa to find humor in my situation. After he tried to crack a few tasteless and decidedly unfunny jokes at my expense, I calmly turned to him and attempted to decribe the bitch's need for love and support during a crisis time like this. When he made a cowboy stance and pretended to draw pretend guns from his pretend holster, I knew it was time to get out.

So, I set about attending to the yearly task of luminarias. Each year on Christmas eve the neighborhood sets up candles in white paper bags. It is quite beautiful, once they are all lit at sun down. Every year I see all the Dads and their boys doing this manly task, and every year I do it. Occasionally Evan helps, but honestly, he is a bit too excited about the prospect of setting a fire, so I try to avoid him. The boys were still hiding down stairs, and the not well trained husband remained on the couch even after I announced "Don't come help me with the luminarias, I want to go down in history as the only woman in the neighborhood who ever did it by herself every single year." Is he thick or what??

This year I forgot to give my block captain the money for my luminaria supply. Luckily I realized I had all the ingredients on hand, except for the kitty litter, which I could substitute sand for. What I thought was a bag of sand in the garage turned out to be potting soil, so I headed for Josh's sand box. The husband couldn't resist cracking one more not funny joke, and made an appearance on the patio to first question my choice of sand box sand for the luminaria and then suggest that the nearby dog poop might also be a good substitute for kitty litter. What a guy!

How did I react to this display of love, concern and tenderness? Well, the Bitch sat down for my other personality Hysterical, who had a nice "You don't love me." crying jag. Needless to say, by the time I got the luminaria set up I went to bed and didn't even stay up late enough to see the street all aglow. Here's what it looked like this moring, when I saw that not one but two of my neighbors did not participate.

Yup, after my last four bags there are about 300 yards of glorious nothingness. Jeez.

Today we went to the Big Apple Circus, as we traditionally do on Christmas Day. We even pick up my 93 year old Grandma and bring her along. Here is us outside the big tent on our way into the circus.

This is the transformation that took place and here we are just as the performance ended

Then we came home and had Chanukah. Tonight I hid the gifts on the laundry machine. We do a "Tonight Chanukah is brought to you by...fill in family member." thing. Matt wanted to go first, since he was so excited about the gifts that he had bought. I hid his wrapped up gifts, and one from us to him, and then they boys find it doing a hot and cold thing with me banging a spoon an a metal pot to indicate their proximity to the treasure. It is great fun, and a real headache by day 4, but my Dad used to do it this way and I am into tradition. Matt got me a hat, and it made me cry because I was just thinking to myself that I wanted to buy some girl hats that the boys wouldn't "borrow" and the hat he got me has a sequined pom pom on top. I swear that boy can read my mind.

I think the bitch has receded, so hopefully I'll be in better shape tomorrow, because the untrained husband is home from work, and it is supposed to rain, and you know how that goes.

not a neme, just some stuff about me

I have been tagged to do this seven sevens neme by The Queen Mama. People, I am such a loser, I can't even think of 7 things I say most often. I went to my family for help and the only one who had a suggestion was Evan and he kept yelling "Shit!" which is oh so true, but not my proudest moment, y'know? At least he was thankful for the free pass to say "Shit!" which he did about 17 times before I had to threaten to brain him if he didn't shut up. (Another golden parenting moment)

Also, I am in a bit of a brain fog, because I did go back to the doctor last week to discuss my blood results which were entirely unremarkable. Not only did my thyriod test normal, but it was right in the middle of normal so I couldn't even suggest that the low end of normal might not be enough thyroid for me. Everything else was fine, and the few things that seemed to be on the low end of normal were actually things that are better to be low. So, the reality is-too much fuel going in, not enough effort going out.

Except for I still feel like "Shit!", so the doctor suggested that in leiu of my history of antibiotic use, I was most likely suffering from candida (I knew this one going in) and would benefit from a yeast and sugar free diet. What am I eating these days, you may wonder. Well pretend you are lost in the forest and forced to forage for food. Yum! I get to eat meat (that I thankfully don't have to catch and skin myself), or fish and vegetables (the really yummy ones like brussel sprouts and cabbage are best), and raw unprocessed nuts. I get to drink water. Think Atkins diet extreme.

The purpose of this diet is to starve the candida. They feed on sugar and anything that becomes sugar during digestion. This is why I can't have any fruit or rice or potatoes or (sob) wine. I also have to avoid foods that are moldy or fermented, like cheese or vinegar, which means boring salads with no dressing. More Yum!

Today is day three for me on this deprivation diet. I am positively feeling the effects of the yeast (candida) die off, I am light headed, a bit wiped, and my breath is rancid. The positive here is that I am expecting to have a nice jump start to my continued weight loss, and as a matter of fact I dared to weigh myself this morning, despite the fact that I am not post menstrual, and my newly updated weight loss stat is:47 pounds!! Woo Hoo for me.

The one really scary aspect to this diet, despite the clawing hunger in my gut, is the fear of constipation. You see Dooce and I have more than just blogging in common, and when I say "I feel her pain." I mean it. I have been there, and frankly, I do not want to go back. I am dependent on prunes (like about 9-12 a day) for normalcy here, and live in fear of forgetting them for a meal, let alone forgoing them for weeks on end. SO, I have vowed to drink lots of water to keep hydrarted, and maybe even (gross) swallow some (gross) flax seed oil if need be. I am good so far, but on the lookout, because a girl has to stay on top of these things. When you stop paying attention, it can get ugly. Real ugly. Scary ugly. Don't go there ugly.

Hopefully my next entry will be the freaking Neme, or maybe I'll just admit defeat and one of my kids or the husband will give me some really good blog fodder. It is after all vacation, and we'll be spending lots of family time together. Joy, and good times.

I ate bad moussaka

I unintentionally ate wheat yesterday. I ordered a casserole type dish that I had safely eaten at a different restaurant, and did not question this one. As I was shovelling in the last few bites, I suddenly realized that part of it had been breaded. It was too late, there was no going back. I wished I knew how to make myself vomit. Around four hours later I was going for a bike ride with Evan, and as we walked our bikes up the causeway I realized that I had some serious pain going on right above the belly button. This morning I woke up with sharp pains in the whole belly area. I went to the bathroom and expelled the cause of the pain, but oh my goodness is my gut sore. I feel like I have just recovered from a huge case of the stomach flu.

I was tested for celiac before I went wheat free and they didn't find anything, but this pain is totally not normal. It is familiar though, and I find it interesting how when not in pain it is so easy to forget how much it used to hurt. I used to feel like this all the time, and never even question it, I just went on with my life. During my walk this morning I needed to move less than usual. It is tough to have an enthusiastic walk without moving your sore abdominal cavity. I feel like I have eaten ground glass.

Concerns now - reawakening the addiction. I am hoping to get through the day with out starting to crave again. I have no idea how much I actually consumed, and no one knows how much it takes to trigger the cravings again anyways. I am totally dedicated to the program, and am vowing to the entire on-line community that I WILL NOT FALL OFF THE WAGON. I will resume my normal eating today, and will not eat any wheat or sugar. Same goes for tomorrow and every day after. I have come too far, feel too good, and am too interested in regaining my health to let this one set back destroy all the progress I have made.

coming out of the pantry

I did something I never do. I announced my weight loss plans and even detailed my methods to a group of friends today. When ever I start a “diet” I always keep it secret, and am actually extraordinarily uncomfortable when people start noticing. During our book group meeting, while we were on a side topic, I mentioned my- in the future- plans for plastic surgery, ie: breast reduction and tummy tuck. I said it was totally going to happen for me, someone asked “When?” and I said when I lose a hundred pounds. I mean duh, they aren’t going to do the surgery on a fat chick! Also, if I did the surgery now, and then lost weight I might be left with nothing up top, which is not my first choice.

Any ways, P kind of nastily said “And how are going to do that?” about the weight loss, which kind of surprised me. I didn’t expect to have to defend myself. When I said “No wheat, no sugar.” A few of the women nodded in agreement and L said something like “That’ll do it” so I felt better, but still, I have friends who do not struggle with food or eating issues and have no idea what goes in my head every day. If I was trying to get off of alcohol or prescription drugs, I am sure I would not get any negativity or eye rolling.

Actually I tried to look at her long enough for her to maybe notice the weight I have lost already. A few friends have said something and for the first time ever their comments do not make me want to run and hide. I think I have overcome the desire for invisibility, not because I did anything, but maybe I just don’t need it anymore. Maybe my old lady self isn’t as scared as the young lady me. I have even been occasionally wearing clothes that are less loose and baggy and concealing than usual.

I wonder if the naturally skinny just think I should accept the cards that were dealt to me. Hey, I still have my health, but I am not sure for how long, so this life extending-life change is coming just in time for me. I can’t wait to look better, but the motivation for me is more health related, I am a worrier and am sure that obesity related disease is just around the corner. I took my blood pressure at the drug store and it was an excellent 103/65. That just tells me that my physical self welcomes the changes and is ready to bounce back.

Go me go.

family crisis for a food addict

Yesterday evening I got a call from my grandmother. She was disoriented and short of breath. She thought I had been there that day and couldn’t understand where I was now, she thought I lived in her building, which I did as a child, but not since I left for college, 23 years ago. Then she got upset over an envelope of money she thought she had and now couldn’t find. She was getting worse and more hysterical, she was breathing faster and faster, and said she was sweating, and thirsty, and I tried to calm her down and convinced her to hang up with me and call 911. Then I called her back and stayed on the phone with her until the EMTs came. She couldn’t continue to speak to me the whole time, and I asked her to leave the phone on her chest so I could hear when they ambulance arrived, and thankfully I could hear her shifting and groaning and was then able to tell the ambulance driver what hospital and doctor she used. He got off with me real fast and I could hear the urgency in his voice which put me into my own panic.

I called a sitter, finished cooking the kids dinner and jumped into Big Olive for the ride into city. All I wanted to do before I left was grab a bag of something to cram into my mouth to soothe myself on the trip. I even looked in the drawer to see if there was anything I could grab. There were no wheat and sugar free snacks and I had to force myself out the door empty handed. Luckily it was after rush hour when I left, still light and hardly any traffic. I went straight to the hospital and got there around 7:40.

She was in the chest pain room, all hooked up, and much less confused. She seemed fine until I realized she still thought I lived in her building. The hospital was running all the standard tests, and thankfully the atmosphere was relatively calm last night. While there were people on stretchers lining the hallway, no one seemed to be in crisis, so the staff was warmer and more relaxed than I have experienced in the past.

At eight o clock they kicked me out for an hour during the shift change. The new staff needed time to familiarize themselves with the patients and there conditions. I went out on the street and decided to take a walk. All I could see were bakeries sandwich shops, and magazine stores filled with candy. It was all so tempting. That was only on the first corner! I took a deep breath, passed them by and kept walking.

Then I came to a candy store. The kind where they have tons of candy in clear bins, and you can scoop it into a bag that you buy by weight. Oh. colorful, sweet and sour, melt in my mouth candy, and chocolate. Omigosh, all kinds of chocolate covered everything. I could make love to chocolate. I pondered the dangers of buying diabetic sugar free candy, thought about the dried fruit, even thought for a millisecond about just throwing in the towel, and then I made myself walk away. I kept walking even though in the back of my mind I was still talking myself in and out of buying candy when as if my personal prayers had been answered and there before me like an angel out of heaven was salvation. Only the halo was missing out of this completely miraculous sight. It was the answer that would lead me safely out of temptation.

Oh latte, nice and warm and comforting, like a snugly down blanket on a cold windy night, creamy, soothing, and most of all satisfying yet sugar free, wheat free, and guilt free. And best of all the bladder bursting Venti size.

Armed with my cozy no foam latte (hey-the foam takes up liquid space in the cup you know!) I headed back to the hospital to sit in the waiting area among the other displaced visitors and soon to be patients waiting for the longest hour ever to be over. All the while I prayed for my grandma and also that no one infectious was breathing near me. When I got back in to the room she shared with 7 other chest pain patients (welcome to emergency care in NYC) it was clear that she was more her old self than she was even an hour ago. I stayed long enough to speak with the physicians assistant as well the attending, who was more worried about her confusion than the chest pain which he attributed to a panic attack brought on by the confusion. She got more blood drawn. I said goodbye around 10 after finding out that they were definitely going to admit her for observation. It was hard to leave her there among strangers, but also a relief knowing she wasn’t going to be alone for at least one night. At least she couldn’t OD on sleeping pills while in the hospital, and I doubted that she would have another panic attack while there. Being alone is so tough. I told her I love her about a hundred times. I vow to surround myself with loved ones and friends, keep busy with activities, and never let the world just run on and on while I sit in front of the TV day and night, just waiting for my time to come. Even if I make it to 93 too! I will never sink into a depression that lasts 35 years because I will know how miserable the end of my grand mothers life has been. It breaks my heart cause I love her so much, she is so sad, and I just wouldn’t want to to cause this much sorrow in the lives of my own kids.

mothers day and food addiction

Sunday we went out for Mothers day brunch with my sister. mother, grandmother, uncle, spouses and children. It was a nice big group and I have already been feeling closer to my sister than ever, it was a warm and comforting feeling to be surrounded by the folks that we would eventually be the family matrons for with the people we will be replacing one day. I think we are on the way to building a much better frame work for family relationships, than the one that is already there and for that I am so thankful. The cousins all enjoy each other and are interested in becoming friends. I am hoping that this lasts a life time so that one day we can bring together a big happy group where there are good feelings, camaraderie, and friendship and not anger, resentment, and hostilities like there are in the generations before mine. Of course, what always tears families apart is money, and that has been the legacy on my side as well as my husbands, so I am bound and determined not to repeat the past. I want to break the cycle.

My sister feels the same, and it definitely helps that we have a similar attitude towards money, the underlying climate being one of generosity, and we know you always take care of your own. Money is what seems to tear families apart the most. I know it was a factor in my grandmother’s lack of relationship with her brother, it causes tension between my mom and her brother, and it is why my husband does not know his cousins. It will not break apart this family any more, and I know if there was an issue, like care for my mother one day, that my sister and I would work it out.

Back to the brunch, we were at this restaurant, I was felling good, and ordered a dish I assumed was safe, but as I ate the very last bite of chicken I realized it was in a gravy type sauce- which means it looked as if it was thickened with FLOUR. As in WHEAT FLOUR. We came right home afterwards and I took some activated charcoal, to disrupt the absorption process, and decided right on the spot that no matter what I felt or wanted I would not go off my program. Yesterday I was busy, which is always the best thing, so I wasn’t thinking much about food, but I tell you I could have eaten a truck load of donuts. I saw 3 boxes of them on the school secretaries desk this morning and had to walk away.

It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I am still doing fine, I am determined enough to stay clean that it will not set me back, but have now made a new vow. I will always ask, no matter what language barrier issue I have with the waiter, or no matter how loud I have to speak to be heard. It is not worth worrying over, and definitely not worth rocking the boat when I am doing so well. But have to tell you, that was the most delicious lemon chicken I ever tasted.